


Beautiful Disaster

by celtic_twinkie



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Angst, F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-10-01
Updated: 2011-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-24 05:36:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/259580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celtic_twinkie/pseuds/celtic_twinkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I guess by now this would be considered AU, but I started writing this August 2010, and am continuing it very slowly.  Set in the Awakenings Universe, Anders never joined with Justice and he + the Warden Commander Solana Amell have a bit of a history together, which still needs to be resolved, apparently.</p><p>I hope you enjoy.</p><p>I'm up to Chapter 9 so far, posted at</p><p>http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6259168/1/Beautiful_Disaster</p><p>Reformatting for here is tedious for me, so the additional chapters will be posted here eventually.</p><p>Meanwhile, I'm working on Chapter 10 in my head and starting to write it out, so yay me!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Big Girls Don't Cry

Location: The Arling of Amaranthine

*

The Templars were royally pissed off.

Anders, a mage of the Circle of Magi (apostate if you wanted to get technical) had managed once again to escape the Tower and lead them on a merry chase across Ferelden. Since the Chantry's main focus was on rebuilding since the last Blight had recently ended, they hadn't exactly sent their best and brightest to pursue him. However, the bumbling fools had soon been joined by Ser Rylock, a thin-lipped, austere female Templar who seemed to harbor a personal vendetta against him. The damned woman was like a bloodhound, relentless in her pursuit of him once she'd gotten word that he'd been spotted in the arling of Amaranthine.

In hindsight, Anders realized he should've planned this portion of his journey more carefully. His first priority should've been to ditch his mage robe and commandeer a disguise that didn't scream, "HELLO I'M A MAGE!" Then he could discreetly locate his phylactery, destroy it and then he would be a free man.

However, Anders was a wreck by the time he painfully limped his way through Amaranthine's city gates. He hadn't eaten in almost two days; he was cold and exhausted. Barely sparing a glance at the City's famed marble statues and bubbling fountains, he'd secured a room in a rundown inn by the docks. Actually, his room was little more than a glorified closet with a narrow bed and a tiny window with a lovely view of a filthy alleyway.

Still, he was grateful that at least the bedclothes didn't smell too rank (if he held them at a reasonable distance from his nose) as he'd promptly fallen onto the bed and passed out. Just a couple of hours, he'd told himself. When he woke up he would grab a meal in the pub and then take a long, hot bath. And maybe find a willing wench to spend the evening with…

He hadn't been asleep that long when a gauntleted hand yanked him out of bed and slammed him onto the floor. Anders cursed under his breath as he found himself hopelessly outmatched by a group of Templars and a smirking Rylock.

"So _pathetic_ ," Rylock taunted as she kicked him viciously in the groin.

Anders grunted as he doubled over in pain. "Sod off!" he managed to sneer at Rylock before one of the Templars brought a mace crashing onto his head and he knew no more.

*

Following his capture, the Templars had marched him to Vigil's Keep where they would spend the night before traveling back to the Tower. Anders supposed he should count himself lucky that the Templars hadn't decided to beat the living shit out of him, or worse, play prison, as it were.

Still, as he cooled his heels in the Keep's dungeon with Duane, the Templar assigned to guard him, Anders was already busy plotting his escape.

Ander's machinations were interrupted by the appearance of a woman carrying a tray of delicious smelling food. Her grey hair was pleated into a no-nonsense bun and her shrewd green eyes coolly assessed the room as she made her way to Ander's cell.

"Is that for me?" Duane asked hopefully.

The woman shook her head. "If you want grub, go get it yourself," she answered pertly. "This is for the prisoner."

Duane frowned. "Rylock didn't say anything about the apostate getting fed," he protested.

"You are under the jurisdiction of the Grey Wardens in here, boy," she replied. "If you want to take it up with the Seneschal, by all means, go ahead."

Ignoring the dumbfounded Templar, the woman quickly unlocked the cell door with one of the master keys attached to an enormous ring tied to her apron. She entered the cell and set the tray down on the floor, sliding it over to Anders.

Anders immediately grabbed a piece of meat and shoved it into his mouth.

"Not so fast," she said reprovingly. "You'll make yourself sick." She watched in satisfaction as Anders made quick work of the food.

"Not to look a gift horse in the mouth," Anders remarked as he stuffed another roll into his mouth, "But why are you being so nice to me? Technically I could turn you into a toad and escape."

She crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow regally at him. "Is that what you are planning to do, young man?"

"No, ma'am," he mumbled.

"Good." She brushed a stray wisp of hair away from her face. "You may call me Adria by the way."

Anders finished wolfing down the last of his food and settled back against the wall with a sigh of satisfaction. "I'm Anders," he replied. "Apostate extraordinaire."

"And are you a blood mage?"

"What? No!" He shook his head. "I'm a healer that shoots the occasional arcane bolt. But I don't dabble in blood magic!"

Adria frowned. "Then why are you in a jail cell?"

"Let's just say being stuck in a Tower isn't exactly my style," Anders replied derisively. "I escaped."

Adria studied him for a moment then nodded. "Well met, Anders," she replied. She left the cell (with the door swinging wide open) and returned with a bucket of water. She placed the bucket within Anders' reach and handed him a brick of soap and a worn rag.

"I must get back to my duties now," Adria said as she picked up the empty tray. "You behave yourself, do you hear?"

It was the first time anyone had shown him any sort of kindness in well…forever. He wished there was something more he could do or say to show his gratitude. "Thank you, Adria," he murmured.

Adria nodded and left.

The Templars came for him early the next day. Anders had been able to give himself a decent wash last night and, coupled with a pleasantly full belly, actually managed to get a decent night's sleep. With his hands bounds in front of him, Anders and the Templars were walking through one of the Keep's long galleries when the shouts of the soldiers could be heard.

The next thing Anders knew, a large group of demonic beings had stormed the room and overwhelmed them. The Templars were dead within seconds and it was a miracle he hadn't been attacked. He quickly grabbed the key off Duane's body and fumbled to unlock his chains. The monsters were nearly on top of him when he managed to mind blast the buggers, which momentarily stunned them. He then unleashed a series of fire spells that annihilated the demons and burnt them to a crisp.

Anders blew away the wisps of smoke still curling from his fingertips then pumped his fist in the air triumphantly. He was bloody free again! He headed towards the exit; when the door suddenly burst open and two women ran in.

"An apostate!" The blue-eyed soldier clad in heavy plate exclaimed. "Commander, what should we do?"

Anders' jaw dropped in shock. The "Commander" the knight deferred to was none other than Solona Amell! He gulped. Of all the people to run into at such a critical juncture! He supposed it might be possible that she could still be pissed that he'd seduced her when she was a mere apprentice. It had been a very pleasant diversion (at the time) in which he'd convinced her that he was in love with her, then shagged her in order to win a bet. The winnings from which (he told himself defensively) had helped to fund his fourth escape attempt.

Little Solana Amell had been the one who to save Ferelden from the Blight and was now the Commander of the Grey Wardens? She was still as pretty as he remembered: her jet black hair coiled tightly into two buns at the nape of her neck, the exotic almond shape of her dark brown eyes and that pretty, pert mouth that had moaned his name as he thrust himself into her until they both cried out in pleasure.

Not now, boyo. Anders inwardly groaned and viciously clamped down on his runaway libido.

"It's all right, Mhairi. I know him." Solana crossed her arms and glared at him skeptically, with that expression of disdain that had earned her the nickname 'The Ice Queen' back at the Tower. "Anders. The Maker must surely possess a twisted sense of humor."

Anders graced Solana with his most charming smile; the one that always made the female mages melt and enabled him get away with bloody murder (figuratively) in the Tower. "Solana! It's good to see you again! What…"

He would've continued but the Commander lunged at him so quickly, he never saw the right hook that sent him sprawling to the ground, courtesy of her angrily clenched fists.

Anders gingerly touched his bloodied nose. "I suppose I deserved that," he said ruefully.

"Bloody hell yes, you did," she muttered. However, she surprised him again when she held out her hand. Anders cautiously took it and heaved himself up.

"We still have darkspawn to kill," Solana said curtly. "Anders, you come with me. If you try to run from me again, I swear to the Maker I will geld you."

The Warden Commander stalked out of the room without a backwards glance. Mhairi eyed him scornfully, as if she'd somehow been able to divine his multitude of sins against the opposite sex merely from being punched in the face. She left the room with all due haste.

Anders' eyes glinted with sardonic amusement as he quickly looted the Templars' bodies for his gear and whatever else he could scrounge up. He then hurried after the Warden Commander.

Life just got a lot more interesting.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Anders hasn't gotten enough love (from me), so this story was born. I originally wrote a scene from his POV for "A New Dawn" but ended up scrapping it. However the poor dear kept clamoring for his own story. So here it is, unbeta'd and quite a different tone from Nate's story. I hope you enjoy it! As always, reviews and comments are always welcome!
> 
> The Dragon Age franchise is property of Bioware.


	2. Quo Vadamis

Location: Vigil's Keep

 

*

Solana Amell's initial foray into Vigil's Keep as Warden Commander of Ferelden wasn't exactly going as expected.

She'd arrived to find Vigil's Keep overrun with darkspawn and immediately leapt into action killing them and saving who she could along the way. Mhairi had thus far proven to be an able warrior, but her inexperience left her uncertain, which meant Solana had to step it up and make up for the difference. Reports of a talking darkspawn worried her greatly, but she focused on the task at hand.

The complete and utter shock of seeing Anders, in the very last place she expected, stymied her. She'd viciously tamped down that tiny, traitorous part of her that was overjoyed at seeing him again. Then her temper took over as long dormant feelings of betrayal and abandonment reared their collective heads and before she knew it, she'd punched him in the nose which, though satisfying, was hardly professional.

Anders had made her fall in love with him so very long ago. Although to be truthful, it hadn't taken much to convince her of his ardor. They'd shared one glorious night together and the next thing she knew, Anders had escaped the Tower again without as much as a by-your-leave. She later found out that Anders had seduced her because of a wager with another female mage, Daphne (who constantly boasted of her rich family and had despised Solana). The wealthy relatives, Solana supposed, was where the sovereigns had come from to fund that ridiculous bet came from.

Still, she decided, it wasn't a bad thing that she'd found Anders, who automatically took up healing duties, enabling her to focus on felling the enemy faster. Stumbling into Oghren had also been a fantastic stroke of luck. The more people she had with her, the better.

When the group finally reached the battlements, they rounded a courner and a darkspawn Solana had never seen the likes of held a dagger to the throat of a man in silverite armor, who was on his knees.

"Anders, catch!" Solana snapped as she tossed him her satchel filled with lyrium potions. Ogrhen and Mhairi rushed in to attack the being that himself called The Withered.

Solana concentrated on taking out the lesser darkspawn as Oghren and Mhairi battled The Withered.

"This one is harder to kill then the others, Commander!" Oghren grunted mid-fight.

Solana glanced concernedly at Anders, who was alternately unleashing massive amounts of magical damage and keeping their group protectively healed without breaking a sweat. What was he trying to do, show off? "Anders! Concentrate on healing! Leave the killing to the others!" she yelled.

"Why can't I do both?" he shouted back, continuing to shoot arcane bolts.

"Because you'll…" She stopped when the Withered suddenly turned his attention to Anders and charged towards him with a bellow of rage. Anders' eyes widened in alarm as he tried to back up and get out of the way. Oghren tried to taunt him off, but the darkspawn was too maddened to pay attention.

Solana cursed under her breath and swiftly transformed into a bear to charge The Withered, knocking him to the ground. He went down, but swung his sword wildly, scoring a gash in Solana's side in retaliation. She roared in pain, but her interception gave Oghren the crucial seconds needed to step in and lop the foul creature's head off in one fell swoop.

Solana shifted into human form again, and lay on her back gasping in pain. She tried to get up, but Anders was swiftly at her side, restraining her and checking over her injury.

"You okay there, Commander?" Oghren asked, leaning on his axe and breathing heavily.

"Yes. Go help him," she said, jerking her head towards the former hostage. Oghren and Mhairi hurried to comply.

"And that's why you bloody listen to me, Anders," she muttered under her breath.

"It's a shallow laceration, but it'll require stitches," Anders pronounced calmly. Waves of blue healing light flared from his fingertips. "You were lucky."

"Commander, I thank you for saving me." The unknown man suddenly loomed over her, his face shadowed by the glare of the sun.

Glad for the distraction, Solana shut her eyes. "You are…the Seneschal I presume?"

"I am Varel," he affirmed with a nod. "I shudder to ponder what would've happened had you not arrived when you did."

"Well met, Varel." Solana hissed in pain when Anders touched upon a tender spot.

The Seneschal turned his attention to the horizon of the setting sun. "Commander, a group of armed riders is approaching the Keep. Hopefully they are friendlier then the last bunch."

Solana inspected her wound and was pleased to find that Anders had stopped the bleeding. "Indeed. I suppose we should go meet them." Solana swatted Ander's hands away and slowly got to her feet.

"I'm not done yet!" Anders protested.

"This is sufficient for now. The rest can wait till later." Solana hastily bandaged herself and made a token attempt to restore her appearance. Taking advantage of Varel's proffered arm, Solana made her way slowly towards the gates of Vigil's Keep.

Solana was met by none other than the King himself, his contingent of royal guards and an angry looking Templar.

"Solana! Are you all right?" Alistair asked concernedly.

"Tis a mere scratch. I would kneel before my liege," Solana teased affectionately, gracing him with an impish smile when Alistair winced. "But I fear I wouldn't be able to get up again."

"I'm never going to get used to you calling me that," Alistair muttered.

"Your Majesty, the Keep has been cleared of all darkspawn, thanks to the Commander," Varel pronounced solemnly, then continued to fill Alistair in on the day's events.

"You have quite task ahead of you, Commander," Alistair commented when Varel had finished his report. "I would lend you aid but I have to deal with the trouble in the Bannorn."

"I'll be fine, Alistair," Solana replied. "I appreciate your..."

"King Alistair!" Rylock eagerly interrupted. " Your Majesty, beware! This man is a dangerous criminal!"

Anders rolled his eyes. "She means me."

"This is the apostate we were in the process of bringing back to the Circle to face justice," Rylock insisted.

"Oh please!" Anders replied heatedly. This was new, Solana thought. She had never seen an angry Anders. "The things you people know about justice would fit into a thimble. I'll just escape again, anyhow."

"Never! I will see you hanged for what you've done here, murderer!" The Templar sneered.

Bloody hell, Rylock was a conniving bitch. To Solana's recollection, Anders had never dabbled in blood magic. He just found life in the Tower unendurable and tried to escape multiple times.

And broke your heart in the process, remember?

"Murderer? But those templars were…" Anders protested. "Oh what's the use…you wouldn't believe me anyhow.

Solana tried to ignore the ache in her heart at the defeated vulnerability in Ander's eyes.

The King shrugged. "It seems there isn't much to say. Unless you have something to add, Commander."

Solana made her decision in that very second. Rylock smugly interpreted the lengthening silence as a victory for the Chantry and moved forward to seize Anders.

"Hold!" Solana's sharp command had Rylock glaring at her. "I hereby conscript this mage into the rank of the Grey Wardens." She thought she heard Anders breathe a deep sigh of relief behind her.

"Your Majesty!" Rylock protested.

Solana stepped forward. "That means hands off my healer, bitch."

The seething anger in Rylock's expression promised that this wasn't the end of the matter, however, the King murmured his agreement with Solana and Rylock stomped away angrily.

*

She saw to her new recruits' Joining, but only stayed long enough to see who survived. Anders and Oghren made it, Mhairi didn't. In fact Oghren seemed unfazed by the whole ordeal, only emitting a loudly obnoxious burp. Anders, however was still unconscious. Not trusting herself to be alone with him, she'd instructed Varel to have someone move Anders to his assigned quarters and keep watch over him until he awoke.

She buried the regret of losing Mhari and concentrated on the tasks at hand. She'd immediately been inundated by requests from Mistress Woolsey, Captain Garavel and many others. She found Varel to be a wise and gentle man, and knew she would rely on him heavily in the days to come. Her expertise was limited to killing things and people that pissed her off…the logistics of running an entire estate intimidated her, but she knew she needed to assess the damage to the keep, inventory their stock, see to giving the dead a proper burial, hiring a new staff and such. Meanwhile, her first order of business was to interrogate a prisoner in the dungeon whom apparently had snuck into the Keep; it'd taken four Wardens to capture him.

*

Much, much later, a very tired and weary Solana finally trudged up to her new quarters (formerly Rendon Howe's private chambers). Varel had thoughtfully seen to it that her belongings were already squared away, a cheery fire had been lit and a bath drawn. She laid her staff against the wall, threw her gear on the bed and used a dagger to cut the bloodstained robe off herself, then washed as best she could, given her injuries. She was still toweling her hair dry when a knock on the door caught her attention.

"Come." She called out.

Her gaze turned wary as Anders opened the door and stepped in. "Solana?"

"What do you need, Anders? I've had a very long day, and…"

"I wanted to thank you for what you did with Rylock. I suppose, given…" He paused, as if searching for the right words. "The way things were left between us, it would've been within your purview to hand me over to the Templars. But you didn't, and I'm most grateful for that."

Solana eyed him coolly. "The ranks of the Grey Warden needed to be bolstered. You skills as a healer will be invaluable in the days to come."

Dead silence.

Anders finally cleared his throat. "I, uh, need to finish tending to your wound."

She waved her hand dismissively. "I'm fine. I've dealt with it."

"May I remind you that healing oneself is rather like cutting one's own hair? Not to be attempted unless one is very sure of their own expertise."

She glared at him. "Are you mocking my skills as a healer?"

He held his hands up in a gesture of surrender, but his eyes glinted derisively. "Not at all."

Solana shook her head and crossed her arms stubbornly.

"Maker's breath, it was a joke! It's not like I'm trying to have it off with you!" At Solana's continued silence, Anders raked a hand through his hair in frustration and tried again. "Look, you saved my ass a couple of times today; won't you let me return the favor?"

Solana finally relented with a huff of frustration and carefully sat on the bed. She pulled her robe open, baring herself fully to him. Her baleful expression practically dared him to make a snarky or libidinous comment. Mercifully, Anders didn't say a word and his expression remained carefully neutral, but for the faint flush of color in his cheeks.

"Lean back a little," he said, coaxing her gently back onto the bed. "There you go."

Solana closed her eyes, fighting to suppress the shiver of pleasure as his fingertips, pulsing with blue waves of healing light, gently ghosted across her torso.

"You know, I never meant to hurt you…" Anders began as he began to stitch up her wound. "It's just that the thought of being stuck in the Tower for the rest of my life was unendurable, I did whatever I had to escape that hellhole."

Solana sighed. It was so like Anders to choose to have this conversation now. "What happened between us wasn't all bad," she replied dismissively, as if she were merely discussing the weather. "It taught me the world is governed mainly by self-interest; it was a lesson that served me well during the Blight."

A tense silence ensued until Anders finally finished stitching her wound. He added a dusting of styptic powder over her stitches for good measure, and then put a light linen dressing on it. He nodded with approval at his work as Solana covered herself up again.

"So that's it?" he asked with an arched brow.

"What's it?"

"You knock me on my ass and all is forgiven?" he asked sardonically.

She shrugged. "It's water under the bridge. There is little point in wallowing in regret and self pity. However, I want to very clear about something, Anders," she said pointedly. "You are now a Grey Warden and I expect you to be worthy of that title. Is that understood?"

Anders threw her a mock salute. "Yes ma'am." He stood and began to gather his things.

"Dismissed, Anders."

With a final glance, he left the room and shut the door behind him.

Solana blew out the candle and lay back on the bed, trying to will the tide of emotion away.

She would not let herself succumb to his charms again. She could not survive another heartbreak.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks to b, my lovely beta for making the chapter to not sound massively retarded.
> 
> I've extemporized on some of the in-game convos since you've already heard it, I figured that you wouldn't need a word for word replay.
> 
> The Dragon Age franchise is property of Bioware.


	3. Walk Like a Man

Location: Vigil's Keep, Amaranthine

*

 _He had her exactly where he wanted her: naked and pinned against the wall._

 _"Anders," she moaned as he kissed his way down the pale, alabaster skin of her body. His hand tightened possessively on her thigh as he realized he was the first to lay his lips upon her body. After months of carefully building a friendship with 'The Ice Queen', he had professed his eternal love for her. His ardent efforts had finally paid off as she submitted to his advances at last._

 _"Spread your legs for me, love, that's it…" he murmured between kisses. She trembled but complied, allowing him deeper access to her core. He parted her and began to lick and suck, enjoying the taste and scent of her arousal. Her fingers tightened in his hair as she instinctively guided his mouth to the most pleasurable spot. He was determined to make her first time a memorable one. Something for her to cherish after he left the Tower for the fourth time…_

 _He petted and caressed her until his fingers were coated with her slick. "Maker's breath," she gasped as he slid two fingers into her and began thrusting in time to the patterns his tongue was tracing against her center. Solana was no match for his skilled technique and soon she climaxed against his mouth with a muffled cry._

 _He had to have her, now. As she leaned weakly against the wall, Anders stood up and held her close, claiming her mouth and caressing her breasts until she shivered against him._

 _"I love you," he whispered. It wasn't really a lie, he had grown to like and esteem Solana over the past six months. He respected her talent as a mage, though she was extremely shy._

 _Solana reached between them and grasped him, guiding him to her entrance. He pushed into her, met resistance and paused, not wanting to hurt her any more than necessary, but Solana would have none of it. She wrapped her legs around him and impaled herself on him in one decisive motion._

 _Maker's breath, she was hot and wet, tightly gripping his manhood like a velvet fist as he began thrusting urgently…_

Anders raked a hand through his hair in frustration as he wandered the halls of Vigil's Keep with a raging hard-on that wouldn't go away. He had to stop thinking about her naked and writhing beneath him. It was also sheer torture to dwell on Solana's motivation for snatching him from the jaws of Chantry justice. Why in the Maker's name had she shown him mercy, acting as if nothing had happened between them at all? Was he (and their one night together) that utterly forgettable? Had she taken any subsequent lovers? Her actions since they'd met up again had been exceedingly particular. How had she defeated an Archdemon as only one of two Grey Wardens in all of Ferelden? What, exactly, had happened to transform her from that the shy, bookish apprentice he'd known back at the Tower into the godlike Warden Commander?

Outwardly, he had nothing to complain about. Life as a Grey Warden, thus far, seemed too good to be true. He'd been assigned his own private room and was fed three square meals a day, and there'd even been mention of a generous monthly stipend. He'd initially reveled in the freedom to sleep late, to do as he wished with no structure imposed him. And the best thing of all? No sodding Templars!

Solana had instructed her new Wardens to outfit themselves appropriately, giving them free reign of the Armory. Apparently she'd amassed quite the collection of armor and weaponry during her days in the Blight; most of it was expensive and high in quality. Like a kid in a candy shop, Ander had spent a great deal of time debating (read: oohing and ahhing over) the relative merits of the available mage armor sets. He finally settled on one called Wings of Velvet*, as it significantly boosted his magical abilities (it didn't hurt that it complimented the color of his eyes perfectly either). However, beyond that, she hadn't said much else.

And so Anders found himself with too much free time on his hands.

He avoided Nathaniel (did that man do anything other than stare, brooding, into the distance?) and, after losing badly to Oghren in a series of drinking contests (he couldn't hold his liquor for shit), he kept to himself. He was further puzzled by the fact that he had absolutely no interest in bedding the score of buxom maids who'd and giggled coyly and fluttered their lashes at him.

It only took the better part of a day to thoroughly explore the Keep (noting all possible escape routes and the best hiding places, just in case the Templars decided to come back).

After sharing a bottle of sherry with Groundskeeper Samuel, Anders decided to tidy the sadly neglected herb garden. He spent a week digging in the dirt, pruning and fertilizing the various plants, until the herb garden was shipshape. It only seemed logical that he then take the initiative to harvest, dry and properly store the herbs he deemed necessary for daily use. Hell, he'd even reorganized the entire collection of apothecary jars, flasks and crucibles several times over (first alphabetically then by color then back to alphabetically again) until everything was arranged to his satisfaction.

He barely saw Solana, since she spent all her time locked in her office with Varel; a steady stream of visitors entered and left her office as though it had a revolving door. Anders decided to take matters into his own hands when the time came to remove Solana's stitches. He'd marched to her office and kicked the door open rudely (his hands were occupied with his healing detritus, weren't they? What else was he supposed to do?) and stepped into the room.

"Yes?" Varel asked brusquely.

"I'm here to remove the Warden Commander's stitches," he said in what he hoped was a commanding tone. Varel was seated next to a very tired and weary looking Solana, apparently discussing trade agreements with the other arlings of Ferelden.

"Solana, if you would grant me a few moments, I can remove them and be out of your way."

Varel crossed his arms and glared at Anders. "Perhaps you and I need to have a discussion regarding etiquette, Anders. And you will address the Arlessa as either Warden Commander or Her Ladyship! Furthermore-.."

"It's fine," Solana interrupted Varel's tirade. "You need a break anyways."

"As you wish, Commander." Varel bowed and exited, closing the door behind him.

Solana leaned back and pulled up her linen shirt, exposing the neat row of stitches that decorated her side. Anders knelt down and examined her.

"I'm sorry I haven't had more time to spend with you, Nathaniel and Oghren," Solana remarked as he took a pair of snips and began to cut the stitches. She shut her eyes and sighed tiredly. "I'm just trying to square away the most urgent matters before we leave to track Kristoff, but everything keeps piling up."

Anders kept his touch impersonal, but gentle, as he removed the last of the thread. "It's fine. I've been keeping myself busy picking flowers and frolicking with the creatures of the forest."

Solana smiled as he'd intended.

"We'll be leaving for the city of Amaranthine in two days' time. Let Nathaniel and Oghren know, will you?"

"No problem," he replied. "Ah, what beautiful work I do! You can barely see the scar, now!" He longed to gently trace the scar and memorize its texture. Instead, he shook his head and looked up. She was staring at him intently, as if waiting for him to make the next move. Perhaps now would be the perfect time to apologize to her. "Solana? I-"

A knock at the door interrupted whatever he'd been about to say. Solana immediately jerked her shirt back down. The door opened and a steward peered in. "Excuse me, Warden Commander but representatives from the City of Denerim have arrived. They've requested an audience with you."

"I'm sorry," she murmured contritely.

Anders gathered up his things as people began filling the room again, eager for the Warden Commander's attention. "It's okay, we'll talk later," he replied, and left the room.

*

Boredom eventually drove Anders make his services as a healer available to the Vigil's staff, the guards and their families. Because of his deft touch and gentle bedside manner, he quickly earned the respect and adoration of the Keep (he hoped Solana had noticed this), especially when he helped the head chef's young daughter recover from the croup. From that moment on, the plump, dark-haired Moira never failed to supply Anders with prime tidbits of whatever she was cooking, whether it was a savory roast or fruit tarts straight from the oven.

He was, in fact, at that particular moment, headed towards what he considered the heart of Vigil's Keep-the kitchen, or The Downstairs (his own private term for it). Not only did he pass the time in pleasant company there, it was the best source for gossip, to keep abreast of the inner workings of the Keep, and to hear news of Solana.

"Anders, love!" Moira called out as he entered the kitchen. "I've saved a pasty for you!"

He took the linen-covered dish from her gratefully, and sat at a nearby table that afforded him a view of the kitchen, but kept him out of everyone's way. The kitchen was busy with the servants preparing the evening meal for the entire Keep. Moira herself was turning a spit with the most juicy, fragrant side of beef he'd ever smelled. He slid the napkin off the plate and blew on the pasty, trying to cool it down. When he finally took a flaky bite, brimming with buttery bits of beef, potato and onion, he closed his eyes in bliss.

"Mmmm, delicious! You've outdone yourself as usual, Moira," he murmured appreciatively.

Moira snorted derisively. "Flatterer." However, her cheeks were pink with pleasure as she continued to baste the roast.

The servants were well used to Anders' presence in the kitchen and didn't hesitate to speak freely in front of him.

"Ooh, have you heard," remarked Bertie, who was currently chopping vegetables, "Her ladyship barely spends any time in her private chambers? Her bed linens is always neat as a pin, like she never sleeps there!"

"Of course not!" Niamh, who was busy kneading dough, scoffed. "The Warden Commander was awake at five bells, going through the papers at her desk, when I went to light the fire in her office this morning! With all that coffee she keeps ordering us to bring her, what was it-six carafes today? She don't need any sleep, I reckon!"

"That ain't nothing," Chloe, another serving girl who sat polishing silverware, replied dramatically. "I heard from one of the stewards, apparently he overheard her Ladyship telling Seneschal Varel that she can't sleep because of the terrible headaches she's been suffering lately!"

The girls murmured over this interesting bit of news.

Moira clucked disapprovingly. "It's not our place to gossip about the Arlessa, girls. Now not another word from any of you, or it'll be your heads I'm serving for this evening's dinner!"

"Yes ma'am!" Three pairs of eyes simultaneously widened and they quickly bent to finishing their appointed tasks.

Moira turned her attention back to Anders. "Did you want another?" she asked, but he was already gone.

"Coffee," Anders muttered angrily to himself as he stalked back to his room. "Filthy Orlesian habit."

This was absolute fuckwittage. What was the bloody point of conscripting three people into the ranks of the Grey Wardens, just to let them sit around like absolute dumbshits for two weeks, when they could've been helping Solana out, instead of her shouldering the entire burden and responsibility of running the arling all by her bloody self?

Anders longed to barge into Solana's office again and tell her exactly what she could do with her sense of duty, and where to shove it.

He took a deep breath and willed himself to calm down. Anders proceeded to mix several varieties of herbs in a mortar and pestle. After crushing and grinding them to the desired consistency, he placed a small amount of the mixture into individual tiny silk sachets, which he then quickly and expertly sewed shut.

He gathered his things and was greeted by Moira's friendly grin when he returned to the kitchen. "Back for seconds so quickly, dear?"

"Moira," he said urgently. "I need you to do me a favor."

"What is it?" she asked, intrigued. She'd never seen the mage look so frustrated before.

Anders handed her the packet of silk sachets. "I hereby forbid the Warden Commander to drink any more coffee. I don't care if the sodding King of Ferelden comes in here and orders you to serve it to her in his boots!" he demanded sternly. "If she starts whining, serve her this tisane instead. It's very important that you prepare it by soaking one of these in a mug of boiling water for exactly five minutes. Furthermore, whoever delivers the tray is to stay and ensure that the Commander drinks the entire cup, then report back to me."

Moira was staring at him as though he'd suddenly sprouted a second head. "Oh?" she said carefully. "What's it for?"

Anders' usually glib demeanor suddenly deserted him as he belatedly realized he should've approached Moira privately. He hoped the blush now staining his face and neck wasn't too noticeable as he stoically endured the tittering of the serving girls behind him.

"Umm. It's to help. With her, you know, it should ease her headache," he babbled. "I mean she did save my neck when she rescued from the Templars and made me a Grey Warden…I owe her a debt I can never repay…since when, at the Tower, I left and…"

 _Shutup shutup shutup_ , he told himself harshly. _Say something reasonable-sounding before they think you are a raving lunatic._

Anders took a breath and strove for a more reasonable tone. "What I meant to say was," he amended, "That as the Keep's resident healer, it is my duty to see that the needs of everyone, including the Warden Commander, are attended to."

Moira fixed Anders with a shrewd glance and finally nodded. "All right. I'll make sure it gets done."

"Thank you, Moira." Anders ignored the speculative looks the occupants of the Downstairs were shooting his way and made his escape as though the demons of the Black City were chasing him.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much thanks to b, my lovely beta, who wields her comma baton with grace and wisdom, for the edits!
> 
> *The Wings of Velvet mage armor set is from a mod called "Wings of Velvet" by Moonwing, available from the dragon age nexus website.
> 
> The Dragon Age franchise is property of Bioware.


	4. Keep Holding On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solana and her Wardens venture into into the Blackmarsh. Much angst ensues!

Location: The Arling of Amaranthine

 

The winds of change were stirring at Vigil's Keep.

At its center was Warden Commander Solana Amell, who had wholeheartedly thrown herself into the role of Arlessa and shouldered its associated burdens and responsibilities. No one could fault her enthusiasm, as she spent her days attending endless meetings with Seneschal Varel and everyone—from farmers to dignitaries—came to meet with her regarding farming, rural and economic issues. Oh yes, and there was that pesky matter of darkspawn.

Truth be told, she'd kept herself busy through the days and nights so she didn't have to think about him. Sleep meant vivid images involving Anders looping endlessly in her mind, and all the latent anger, insecurity and heartbreak flooded back with a vengeance. She felt as if she had turned back into that naïve girl who'd somehow been so lacking, Anders had abandoned her without a second glance. One late evening (morning really), after two weeks of nonstop meetings and many a late night spent working, she found herself reviewing the 'milk book' with Varel:

 _Feckless – 5 gal of milk._

 _Graceless–6 gal of milk._

 _Aimless–4 gal of milk._

 _Milkless–0 gal milk. (tail fell off)_

"Why in the Maker's name would Rendon Howe give his cows such horrible names?" Solana muttered.

Varel smiled. "It's late. You should get some rest. You know you can trust me to competently handle these mundane issues."

Solana rubbed her eyes tiredly. "You've been wonderful, Varel. I guess I got a little carried away, didn't I?"

A quick knock on the door interrupted their conversation. "Come," she called out.

Solana frowned when she saw Moira enter the room, bearing a tray laden with a teapot instead of her usual carafe. "What's this?"

"Tisane, my Lady. Anders said-"

"Moira," she said sternly. "What does Anders have to do with what I choose to drink?"

Moira flushed but remained silent.

"It's all right," Varel said gently. "You may speak freely."

"Anders mentioned that her Ladyship was drinking too much coffee." She paused as if trying to search for the correct word. "He suggested you drink this tisane instead." Moira nervously waited for a reaction.

Solana's temper immediately flared. She'd heard of how Anders had valiantly nursed Moira's deathly ill daughter back to health, but hadn't realized the extent to which Anders' had gained the adoration and loyalty of the staff. Still, just who the bloody hell did he think he was, trying to dictate what she did and didn't drink? However, Solana kept her expression carefully neutral. "I would like you to bring me a carafe of coffee now, please."

"I cannot, my Lady." "Why not?" Solana asked, baffled. Moira refused to meet Solana's eyes. "The bag of coffee beans seems to have been destroyed in an unfortunate kitchen fire."

"I see," she said calmly. She had no doubt that the alleged fire had Anders' dirty fingerprints all over it. She'd rather drink cow piss than this tisane. "That will be all, Moira."

"But, my lady, the tea! Anders said I was to make sure you drink the entire–" Moira protested. Solana only arched an eyebrow and fixed the servant with a pointed look (the one that had made Loghain yield at the Landsmeet) until Moira finally curtseyed, and with a mumbled "Yes, my lady," she left the room.

Solana stood up agitatedly and began pacing the room, muttering a steady stream of curses so vile; they had Varel's cheeks turning red.

"Is everything all right?" Varel asked mildly.

"I'm fine," she said through gritted teeth. "Will you please instruct the Wardens to meet me at the front gate at six bells? We leave for the City of Amaranthine in the morning."

Varel nodded cautiously. "I'll have Moira pack you some provisions as well."

She slammed the milk book shut. "Thank you. We are done here."

 

*

 

They set out the very next morning to track Kristoff. It was nice to be out in the fresh air again and actually doing something that didn't involve meetings or strategy sessions. There was a list of places she needed to check on: a couple of farm holds with reports of darkspawn and rescuing a Bann's daughter who'd been kidnapped; tasks which were dispatched with easily. They stopped briefly in the City of Amaranthine. Though there were pressing matters within the City itself that needed to be taken care of, Solana only stayed long enough to investigate Kristoff's room at the Crown & Lion Inn, which revealed a map, indicating that Kristoff had gone to the Blackmarsh.

By the time Solana and her Wardens made it to the outskirts of the Blackmarsh, the sun was already setting, illuminating the sky into a vibrant, smoky orange.

"The Veil is thin here," Solana commented with a shiver. "Its best we make camp for the night. We may not be able to rest again for quite a while."

After unloading their gear, Oghren went to gather firewood while Nathaniel went to hunt something up for dinner. There were still so many tasks to accomplish: she wanted to mix up extra batches of healing and mana potions, just in case of a prolonged stay in the Blackmarsh; she needed to fully disclose to the group the implications of being a Grey Warden; and then she needed to set up protective wards about the camp before they retired for the night. She would take first watch, then she'd ask Oghren to take second watch and…

"Alone at last, eh?" Anders joked nervously.

Solana cleared her throat, careful to maintain a professional demeanor. "Right. Would you like to set-up the tents or cook dinner?"

"I'll cook," he decided after a minute. "I've never had very much luck with those blasted tents."

"Fair enough." With a mallet in hand, Solana held out a tent stake and prepared to drive it into the ground.

"How are the headaches?" asked Anders, who had moved to sit upon a nearby rock and was studying her intently.

She frowned. "Pardon?"

"The headaches you've been suffering from. Have they eased?"

Her earlier irritation with him came flooding back as she pounded the stake viciously with the mallet. "How is that any of your business? And by the way, would you please refrain from dictating to the servants what I can or cannot drink?"

Anders eyed her progress with interest. "Is that stick thing supposed to go completely underground?"  

Solana viciously yanked the stake back out. "I need you to focus on healing the group when we're in combat. You needn't concern yourself with anything else."

"I disagree. I also serve as Healer to the denizens of Vigil's Keep. And since you count as one of those, your well-being is my concern." Anders sighed at the stubborn look on Solana's face. "Look, I'm not proud of my past behavior. I'm trying to make it up to you," he said quietly.

Solana shook her head and this time expertly drove the stake into the ground. "There's no need to. Simply obey orders and we're fine."

"Maker's breath, woman!" Anders jumped off the boulder and grasped her arm. "You shouldn't bear all this responsibility on your own! Let me help you."

"Enough!" Solana abruptly jerked away from him and concentrated on unfolding a length of tent canvas.

Anders frowned. "Solana?"

Nathaniel suddenly reappeared at camp, holding a brace of hares he'd caught. "Everything all right?" he asked, sensing the simmering tension. When no one said anything, he shrugged.

Solana heard Anders sigh deeply again, but she studiously ignored him.

"Ah yes," he remarked wryly. "Apparently I volunteered to cook tonight. I suppose I should look for Oghren and make sure he hasn't fallen into a hole somewhere."

 

*

 

They broke camp early the next morning after a hurried breakfast of way bread and hot tea. The sky was dark and cloudy; and there was a pressing thickness to the air, as if some malevolent entity were trying to push the Wardens out of its territory. Blackened trees stripped bare of their leaves jutted ominously and numerous rotting carcasses littered their path. The small bands of wolves, shrieks and darkspawn they encountered were easily dispatched.

"Five gold says we get stuck in the Fade again," Solana muttered, though inwardly she was pleased with how Nathaniel, Oghren and Anders fought together as a team so far.

Oghren harrumphed. "Make it ten and you have yourself a deal."

They eventually wandered onto the crumbling remains of a large estate: complete with a large, decaying mansion looming ominously over the ruins of a village. After conducting a house-to-house search, and picking up anything of value, an abandoned camp was spotted.

"Definitely Kristoff's belongings," Solana remarked as she held his locket in her hand. "Maybe he's just gathering firewood and will be back in a few minutes."

"Sure, and Howe here wants to give me a blow job," Oghren said sarcastically. "Let's just find this guy and get out of here, Warden!"

"For once I agree with the dwarf," Nathaniel replied with a sardonic smile. "Though not about the oral sex part."

Solana glanced at Anders, who seemed uncharacteristically subdued, from beneath her lashes. _Focus_ , she told herself. "Let's move on then," Solana said briskly. "I—"

" _Ware fore_!" Nathaniel suddenly yelled.

Solana's attention was drawn to the mass of large yellow slugs with hideous faces, the likes of which she'd never seen before, swarming towards them. "Stand your ground!" she shouted. Oghren had already charged in the midst of them, chopping and hacking his way through them. Nathaniel immediately nocked an arrow to his bow and quickly fired while Anders backed up slightly, ready to heal when necessary. Solana followed after Oghren, casting spell after spell to slow, and then quickly eradicate as many the creatures as she could. However, both she and Oghren couldn't get them all. One of the grubs had managed to slither past Nathaniel's blind side and launched itself onto the rogue, knocking him down. Nathaniel screamed in agony as the grub's sharp teeth tore a deep gash into his shoulder.

Solana immediately ran to the rogue and thrust her sword through the grub (carefully so as not to injure Nathaniel further), killing it.

"Help him!" Solana snapped.

Anders immediately set to healing Nathaniel while Solana and Oghren finished off the remaining grubs. Nathaniel's pale face grimaced in pain as Anders cast a healing spell to staunch the bleeding.

"What can I do?" she asked when she was able to return to Anders' side.

"He's lost a lot of blood," Anders replied tersely. "I need to stitch him up, but he's going into shock. You need to keep casting healing spells on him to keep him stabilized until I'm done."

"All right." After taking out a few mana potions from her pack, a wave of blue healing energy flared continuously from her fingertips while Anders quickly cleaned and stitched his wound.

Solana was astounded by the sudden change in Anders. The smirking, feckless mage she was used to was gone; replaced by a confident and capable healer calmly performing his duties in the heat of battle. Even worse, a quiet intimacy seemed to have developed between them as they worked in tandem to repair Nathaniel's injuries; their fingers brushed together more than once.

Anders' ponytail had come loose from its leather tie; she had to resist the urge to smooth the stray lock of silky blonde hair from his face.

By the time they were finished, both Anders and Solana were sweating and breathing heavily from their efforts; but Nathaniel was stabilized. Solana quickly fashioned a makeshift sling from length of linen cloth.

"We can't afford to linger, Warden," Oghren warned. "There'll be more of those buggers spawning right on top of us any second now."

"Perhaps it's better to leave me behind," Nathaniel gritted out painfully. "I'll only be a liability."

"And waste all that brilliant healing I just did? Besides," Anders drawled, leering at Oghren. "The dwarf is obviously desperate for you to suck his cock, and if that happens, I want to watch!"

"Shut it, sparkle fingers!" Oghren growled after turning a very interesting shade of red.

"No one gets left behind," Solana pronounced sternly, hiding a smile. "Now let's see if you can stand and lean on me, will you?"

*


End file.
